


Unravel

by Crexendo



Category: Bleach
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crexendo/pseuds/Crexendo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Muguruma Kensei always wondered what had happened to his favorite pupil after he stopped coming to the dojo . . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unravel

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend upon request. She asked for a Kensei/Shuuhei fic, and this turned out a lot better than I thought it would. Though, this is my first work posted here, so, please be nice to me.
> 
> Kubo-sensei is the maker of Bleach, not I, but it is magical and part of what makes everything in the world wonderful.
> 
> Note- I just changed the way this is laid out, so it might be somewhat easier to read. It's less of a jumbled mess than before. The writing is still the same though.

_“Muguruma-sensei! Look at this!”_

_“Hey . . . what’s the big idea, Hisagi?”_

_“Don’t you think it’s cool, Sensei?!”_

_“I think you’re a little young to be getting tattoos, kid. And what’s with it being the same as mine, only on your face, of all places?”_

_“I wanna be like you, Sensei!”_

_“Yeah? Well, keep trying. Get stronger. Grow taller. Maybe you’ll get there some day . . . .”_

~

The memories played, unbidden and solemn, through Muguruma Kensei’s mind as he gazed at the dark haired figure lying in the nondescript white bed. _‘What happened to the bright, eager boy you used to be, Shuuhei . . . ?’_ he wondered, as he watched the young man’s chest rise and fall in time with the rhythmic fogging up of the inside of the oxygen mask strapped over his nose and mouth.

They told him Hisagi had been lucky. The oncoming vehicle that had hit the car that Hisagi and his stepmother occupied slammed directly into the driver’s seat, killing his stepmother instantly, though sparing Shuuhei from any life-threatening injuries. They’d moved him into Kurosaki Clinic, at Kensei’s request; he couldn’t stand the thought of his former pupil rotting away in some generic hospital.

It wasn’t like there was anyone who could have objected, Kensei was now legally responsible for the boy. Lacking any relatives who lived in the country, and now having lost his only surviving parent, his stepmother, there had been no one else to claim Shuuhei. That’s when Kensei had stepped in.

He’d taught the dark haired, bright-eyed child kendo and boxing for years once upon a time, when both of them had been younger, and Kensei has always had a soft spot for the lively, curious boy. As far as the silver haired fighter had understood, Shuuhei’s birth mother had died when was very young, leaving him and his father alone. While his father worked, Shuuhei had spent his late mornings and afternoons at Kensei’s dojo.

Kensei was fully aware that the boy idolized him, and he did what he could to look out for him, until one day, Shuuhei said his father was getting remarried. Soon after that, Shuuhei stopped coming to the dojo, and all but disappeared off the face of the earth. But when Kensei had seen the news report, he knew he couldn’t just let this go. Giving command of the dojo over to his assistant instructor, Kuna Mashiro (a slight green-haired girl who lacked outward intelligence and had a fascination with kicking) he’d gone to the hospital named in the announcement. It had been almost five days since then, and Shuuhei showed no signs of waking anytime soon. It was almost like . . . he didn’t want to wake up. 

“Shuu . . . what happened to you? What happened to you after you left?” Kensei found himself whispering on more than one occasion. His former student looked different, and not just because he was older, no, there was something about him that spoke of trials and suffering.There was a look on the young man’s sleeping face that was haggard and tired, lines that told tales of pain, and a set of scars that went all the way down to his chin from under his hair. It made Kensei’s heart sting, not knowing what had befallen his beloved pupil after they’d parted, and it made him want the boy to wake up even more.

~

The clinic was quiet at this time of day. The doctor, an acquaintance of Kensei’s by the name of Kurosaki Isshin, had gone to a medical conference and would return early the following day. The man’s two daughters were at school currently, but his only son, a college student with brilliant orange hair and a feisty attitude was watching the house and his sisters while their father was away. He kept mostly to himself, only coming to check on Shuuhei every once in a while.

It didn’t really bother Kensei, Shuuhei wasn’t in any danger and needed only minimal supervision, but since it was quiet, he couldn’t miss the gentle knocking coming from the front room of the clinic. Curious and wary, having chased off a number of news reporters already, Kensei rose to tell whoever it was to get lost (if they were someone from the media) or to come back tomorrow (when Isshin returned, if they were a patient). When he opened it however, the sentence died in his mouth, for some reason.

Standing on the step was a young man who had pale blonde hair and sky blue eyes, dressed in a navy blue t-shirt and some black jeans. He bowed politely, “Hello. Is this the Kurosaki Clinic?”

“Yeah . . . but the doc isn’t in, and won’t be back until tomorrow.” Kensei replied after a long pause, trying to decide if this person was a threat of some sort or not.

The young man’s eyes widened slightly, “Oh! No, I already knew Kurosaki-san wasn’t here. I came to see Hisagi-kun. Kurosaki-kun said it would be alright if I did.”

Kensei blinked, “Kurosaki-kun? The orangette? Isshin’s son?”

“Yes,” the blonde replied, smiling a bit, “Kurosaki Ichigo. He is my classmate, and when I heard that Hisagi-kun had been brought here, I asked him if it was okay if I dropped by.”

“You know Shuuhei?” the silver-haired man asked skeptically.

The blue-eyed male bowed again, “Yes, my name is Kira Izuru. Hisagi-kun is also my classmate, and a good friend of mine.”

“Your classmate? The three of you go to college together? Which school?” Kensei continued questioning, now blatantly curious.

“Oh, just Karakura University. The three of us started last spring.” Izuru replied with a little shrug.

 _‘Karakura U. . . . ? So close . . . . But then . . . why did he just vanish like that?! If he was so close, why did he stop coming to the dojo?!’_ Kensei was brought out of his frustrated thoughts when his brain registered that Kira was still talking.

“ . . . since he lived so close, Kurosaki-kun decided to just stay at home. Hisagi-kun used to live across town with his stepmother, but recently moved in with me and my boyfriend.” The blonde was saying.

Kensei blinked at the word ‘boyfriend’, surprised, but not disturbed. The blonde didn’t look like a fairy . . . but who was he to judge? Kira glanced over his shoulder, and Kensei followed his gaze to where a silver convertible was parked in the shade across the street.  
A tall, slender man with chin-length silvery-white hair was lounging across the back seats, with sunglasses covering his eyes, clad in white slacks and a tight black t-shirt. He waved as he saw Kira look back at him, smiling. For some reason, the man in the car looked familiar to Kensei, though at the moment, he couldn’t place where he’d seen him before or how he knew him.

“Huh . . . . That him, your boyfriend?” he asked the aquamarine-eyed blonde offhandedly, jerking his head in the direction of the silverette.

Izuru’s cheeks flushed faintly, “Yes, that’s him. Ichimaru Gin,” he murmured.

Another note of familiarity rang through Kensei’s being, but still, nothing definitive came to mind.

Kira turned back towards the other silver-haired man, “Um . . . can I see Hisagi-kun, please?”

Kensei blinked again, as if suddenly remembering where he was and why he was there, “Oh. Yeah. Right. Sure, come on in.” he muttered vaguely, moving aside to let the blonde male inside. He gave the smiling man in the car, Ichimaru Gin, a long stare before he closed the door and turned to go back into the other room, where Shuuhei was. Izuru had taken up a spot next to Hisagi’s bed, gazing at him with solemn blue eyes.

“ . . . They say he’s fine . . . but for whatever reason . . . he won’t wake up.” Kensei said slowly, going back to sit in the chair he’d been occupying earlier.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised . . . Hisagi-kun always did talk about how nice it would be to fall asleep and never wake up . . . . Now he finally got his wish.” Kira’s harsh and bitter tone shocked Kensei almost as much as his words did.

“Wha . . . ? What are you talking about?!”

Izuru smiled grimly, “Hisagi-kun wanted to disappear from this world . . . he just couldn’t do it by himself. I can hardly blame him though . . . with the life he had.”

Kensei felt the blood drain from his cheeks; this man knew. This man knew what had happened to Shuuhei over those years when Kensei hadn’t been around to protect him.

“K-Kira . . . please. Tell me . . . what happened . . . ? What happened to Shuu . . . after he stopped coming to see me?”

Kira’s sky blue eyes widened as realization filled them. “You . . . you’re . . . You’re Muguruma Kensei, aren’t you?!” he whispered in astonishment.

Kensei hesitantly nodded, “Yeah. I am . . . .”

A wistful gleam entered Izuru’s blue orbs, “Hisagi-kun used to talk about you a lot . . . . He said those years he spent in your dojo were the happiest years of his life . . . a time when he didn’t have to be afraid, when he wasn’t scared of doing anything wrong. The time before he was broken . . . .”

“ . . . Broken . . . ?” Kensei echoed, feeling his throat tighten against the word.

Kira nodded tersely, “Yes. It was his stepmother’s fault.” There was no missing the thread of anger and sorrow in the blonde’s tone.

“His stepmother? What did she have to do with it?”

“Everything.” Izuru spat, “She’s the reason Hisagi-kun lived in Hell for nine years . . . !”

“Kira, what do you mean?!” Kensei all but shouted, a terrible foreboding and a trill of terror-filled anticipation eating away at his patience and restraint.

“She hurt him. She hurt him bad. Every day. For years. She abused him, both physically and mentally, and she controlled every facet of his life. She’s the reason Hisagi-kun had to stop coming to your dojo, Muguruma-sensei. She refused to allow him to go, because she was afraid someone would find out, and because she feared him learning how to fight back.”

Pain blossomed in Kensei’s heart as the blonde spoke, exquisite agony caused by a sense of helplessness, regret, rage, sorrow, and shame. _‘Shuu . . . . Why wasn’t I there to protect you . . . ? Why didn’t I come looking for you?! If I had been there . . . ! . . . You wouldn’t have had to suffer . . . !’_

“At first, his father was unaware of the abuse . . . but then, she started abusing him too, and it was enough to drive him over the edge. Hisagi-kun’s father committed suicide, and left him at the mercy of his stepmother. She’s the one who put those scars on his face, though it was written off as a self-inflicted injury. Hisagi-kun . . . he couldn’t do anything without his stepmother’s approval, he was too scared to tell anyone about it, and he became quiet and withdrawn, always flinching at loud sounds and apologizing profusely for tiny mishaps, even when he wasn’t in her presence . . . he was like that all through high school. I watched him slowly fall apart, slowly lose himself, not knowing what was happening . . . or how I could help him . . . .” Kira murmured sadly, his blue eyes distant and unfocused, lost in memories of the past.

“I eventually forced him to tell me about it, after the incident that gave him those scars, because I knew something was up between him and his stepmother . . . and I knew Hisagi-kun would have never intentionally hurt himself like that. He hated pain, for as long as I’ve known him, he hated it so much he bent to his stepmother’s will to avoid getting hurt . . . . He begged me not to tell anyone . . . so I didn’t. I don’t think he could’ve stood having everyone stare at him; ostracize him even more than they already did . . . . More than anything, he didn’t want to be hated by anyone . . . . I did force him to try and get out of the house more, and pressed him into getting into collage, so he could move out. And finally, he did . . . but . . . she always came looking for him.”

Kira had his arms wrapped around himself, looking small and vulnerable, “Hisagi-kun put on a calm face for everyone . . . no one ever knew how much pain he was in, how scared he was, how emotionally fragile . . . . And in the middle of the night, I could hear him . . . sobbing . . . . Sometimes crying out ‘Sensei . . . !’, like he was begging for help or something . . . .” 

His words took Kensei’s breath away, and he gave Shuuhei, his student, the one he was supposed to protect as a teacher, and as a friend, a desperate, anguished glance. He had been calling out to him . . . and he hadn’t come for him.

_‘Shuu . . . I’m so sorry, Shuu . . . ! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you . . . . Forgive me!’_

“I . . . felt helpless. Angry. Agonized. I could not save him, my best friend, from his stepmother, or from himself . . . . But . . . I hoped . . . that maybe someday soon, the ‘Sensei’ Hisagi-kun childishly called for . . . would come and rescue him . . . .”

Kensei buried his face in his hands, almost overwhelmed by this whole revelation. His student, his favorite student, a bright and happy boy, had needed him, and he hadn’t been there. That, in itself was heartbreaking to him.

“Shuu . . . . Please . . . Please forgive me!” he whispered to the dark-haired boy lying nearby. He looked up, his expression one of pure torment, as Hisagi’s sleeping face. “Shuuhei . . . I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again . . . !”

_‘Never again . . . . Never again will I turn my back on you because I so stupidly assume that it’s not my place to get involved! You needed me, and I wasn’t there . . . . There is no way I can ever make this up to you, but please . . . wake up so I can tell you this face to face.’_

“You . . . love Hisagi-kun . . . don’t you, Muguruma-sensei?” Izuru’s voice was soft and reverent, but nonetheless startling.

Did he? Did he love him, his former pupil that he had so recently found? Did he love this poor abused creature that had so foolishly clung to him without him even realizing it? “ . . . I’m not sure,” he answered honestly, “I will admit that I never forgot about him . . . and often wondered where he’d gone, and how he was doing . . . . I felt like . . . like I needed to protect him, because he didn’t have many people to rely on . . . . And now that I know . . . what he’s been through . . . I can’t help but feel like I abandoned him, like all of this is my fault . . . . He was so close, and if I had just tried looking for him . . . ! . . . Maybe I could have saved him from so much agony and despair . . . !” More than anything, Kensei was angry at himself, for being so selfish and stupid when his pupil had been hurting. Shuuhei had never deserved to be physically, mentally, emotionally abused like that, no child did, for that matter, but especially not this child, even if this child had since grown into a handsome young man.

“Muguruma-sensei . . . Hisagi-kun is still a child on the inside . . . the kind of child that needs unconditional love, and someone who can shield them from the evils of the world . . . . I couldn’t be that kind of person for him, as much as I care for him . . . . So, I’m asking you, as Hisagi-kun’s only friend . . . will you pull him out of the dark?”

Kensei wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to say that he would . . . but he wasn’t sure if he could live up to that promise.

“Maaaah, Izuru. We gotta get goin’. We’re gonna be late, ya know?” a voice called suddenly, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the room. 

Both Kira and Kensei looked over to the entryway, where the silver-haired man from the car outside stood, his sunglasses now resting on his head, his narrow eyes glittering a startling ice blue. Kira looked at his watch. “Oh. You’re right. Sorry, Gin, I lost track of time.” He murmured quickly, rising to his feet.

“Nah, ‘s not a problem, Izuru. We just gotta leave like, right now.” The slender man replied coolly.

The same sense of familiarity filled Kensei again as he stared at the silverette leaning against the doorframe. _‘I’ve met this guy before . . . but where? And when . . . ?’_

Suddenly it hit him. He stood up sharply, “You were there when that bastard Aizen busted our gang in high school! You were that fox-faced cadet he had with him!”

Gin’s eyes widened slightly, realization setting in, recognition closely following it. Izuru glanced nervously between his lover and the suddenly angry silver haired boxer standing on the other side of Hisagi’s bed. “Gin . . . what’s he talking about?”

Gin shook his head slightly, “Somethin’ dat happen’d a looooong time ago, Izuru. Back when I used ta play puppy fer Aizen . . . .” It was obviously an unpleasant memory for the both of them, for different reasons.

“It was the first big break I ‘ad on Aizen’s squad . . . we went ta break down a rather notorious gang dat ‘ad been causin’ us trouble fer a while; The Vizards. As it turned out . . . we arrested most’a the members, but the leadin’ circle all escaped, but the gang nevah resurfaced . . . for whatev’a reason . . . .” the ice-eyed silverette said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I’m guessin’ dat you were part of dat leader’s circle, no?”

Kensei scowled, “We were going to disband soon anyways. Most of us in the inner ring wanted to get on with our lives. If you had come a week later . . . there wouldn’t have been a gang for you to find. But because of that . . . demon, Aizen, most of our gang rotted in prison for who knows how long!”

Izuru clung to Gin, his sky blue eyes shining with fear, and the silver-haired male responded by putting an arm around the blonde’s waist, pulling him closer. “ . . . Yeah. Dat’s true. But . . . I dunno why yer pinnin’ dis on me. I was only followin’ orders. An’ soon afta’ dat, I quit the force, and b’came a painter n’stead. I’ve got nothin’ ta do with Aizen anymo’, I ‘aven’t even seen the guy in years, afta’ he gave up tryin’ ta get me ta come back.” Gin returned in a low, controlled tone.

Kensei had to force himself to relax. He took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. “I’m not . . . I’m not trying to . . . blame you for what happened. It’s just been something that’s bothered me for a long time, and . . . you were here, and with him that time . . . . I’m sorry. I just . . . .”

Gin shrugged, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, “Maaah. Dun worry ‘bout it. I get it. ‘S the association with the bad memories, right? Dat wasn’t exactly one of the best days of mah life either.”

“No, really. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t fair to you.” Kensei pressed, offering his hand towards Gin. After a moment’s hesitation, Gin reached out and grabbed the offered hand, and the two shook hands, a silent apology and agreement to no hard feelings.

A few seconds later, they let go, and Gin glanced at the blonde still clinging to his shirt. “Mah, Izuru, should we get goin’?” Izuru nodded slightly, his wary gaze never leaving Kensei.

Kensei sighed, knowing that he’d screwed up in his reaction. He bowed to Kira, “I apologize for scaring you, Kira-kun. I overreacted.”

The blonde gradually relaxed, and loosened his hold on his boyfriend’s clothes, “It’s okay . . . I understand.” He murmured.

Kensei smiled at him, “It was nice meeting you . . . .” his smile faded then, “Thanks for telling me about Shuuhei. I . . . really appreciate it. And I’ll . . . I’ll do my best to pull him out . . . .”

Izuru’s blue gaze was solemn, and his only reply was another tiny nod before he turned and started to walk away with Gin. “Well, we’ll be seein’ ya ‘round, most likely . . . Sensei.” Gin called over his shoulder. “Take good care’a our lil’ Shuuhei.”

~

It was once again quiet, but this time, the silence was painful. There was really nothing for Kensei to do but wallow in his regret and grief. He could return to his dojo, but, with all that he’d learned today, he didn’t want to leave Shuuhei’s side, not now, never again. It gave him a lot of time to sort his thoughts, however, amid his sorrow and self-blame. There was a lot to think about, but he’d decided some things rather quickly, despite that.

He’d already made up him mind to take Hisagi home with him, at least until he himself decided what he wanted to do, and that he really did love dark-haired boy who’d grown into a (rather attractive) young man. He always had, but he’d never actually understood the feeling until now, and he believed that somewhere along the way, his feelings of platonic love had morphed into something more . . . romantic.

He let out a sigh for the umpteenth time, and reached out with one hand to run his fingers along the back of Shuuhei’s palm. “Shuu . . . . Please wake up. There are so many things I need to tell you . . . .”

Noises coming from the hall that led into the Kurosaki household caught his attention, and when the orange-haired son of Kurosaki Isshin appeared in the doorway, Kensei was hardly surprised. 

However, he was surprised by the man standing behind him, partially because he had his arm around Ichigo’s waist and was kissing his neck, but partially because he recognized the man with the bright shock of electric blue hair and fierce sapphire blue eyes. The sixth-place winner of the National Kickboxing Tournament that had taken place almost four months ago, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Kensei, as an avid fan of the sport and teacher of it as well, had caught the tournament on TV, and remembered this particular fighter as a ferocious and skilled combatant. Seeing him here, especially curled around Isshin’s son in a possessive but loving way, was nothing less than astonishing.

_‘First Gin . . . and now this guy . . . ? What is it, dig-up-every-obscure-person-I-know day?’_

“Muguruma-san, I’m going out with Grimmjow for a while. If my sister’s get back before me, tell them I’m bringing back dinner, and that Grimm is staying over tonight, okay?” Ichigo said, as if the tall, muscular teal-haired man behind him was NOT trying to seduce him.

“Uh . . . alright . . . .” Kensei finally managed to get out; he couldn’t stop staring at Grimmjow.

“Oh, and you’re welcome to eat dinner with us as well, Muguruma-san.” 

“U-Um. Thank you . . . Kurosaki-kun . . . . I will.”

Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed as he noticed Kensei’s continued scrutiny. “What the hell do you want?” he snapped.

Kensei blinked at his hostility, but he guessed that this was what the man was normally like. “Nothing.” He said calmly, “I just . . . recognize you from the National Tournament, is all.”

Grimmjow blinked, “Oh. I see. Hn. It’s been a while since I met someone who actually cared about that . . . . But, now that I look at ya . . . you seem like the type who would care. You a boxer yourself?”

Kensei smiled a little, “Not anymore, not professionally anyways. I run a dojo, where I teach kids kendo and kickboxing. Though, I still watch the Nationals when they’re on.”

Grimmjow grinned, “Well, good for you. Keep it up. Teach those brats a real sport.”

Ichigo elbowed his boyfriend, “Grimm . . . .” was all he said, but there was a note of warning in his voice. 

“I got ya, I got ya, Ichi. We can go now.” Grimmjow said with a sigh before he straightened up. He gave Kensei a casual salute, “Well, it was nice meetin’ ya, Sensei. See ya later.”

Kensei nodded, “Yeah. You, too.”

Ichigo paused for a moment and turned back, “Is there anything you want me to pick up for you, Muguruma-san?”

“No. Thank you for the offer, though.” Kensei replied quietly.

“Well, alright then, we’ll be going now.”

~

Kensei had to smile. Dinner with the Kurosaki children and the professional kickboxer had been . . . interesting, to say the least. Kensei had excused himself when Grimmjow had dragged Ichigo up to the second floor, their lips firmly plastered together, their shirts already halfway off.

Ichigo’s sisters had been pleasant girls, Yuzu; sweet and hospitable, and Karin; determined and down-to-earth. The black haired girl had been the one to finally tell Ichigo and Grimmjow to go upstairs and get a room. As for Grimmjow himself, the man was gruff, pointedly blunt, and rude most of the time, but it was obvious that he adored Ichigo, and that he thought of Yuzu and Karin as his own little sisters, and treated them with a playful affection.

Back in his chair, sitting next to Shuuhei’s bed, he felt a bit lighter than he had before. He’d come to realize . . . things could only get better for Hisagi at this point, and even if the boy didn’t return his affection, he’d be free to do whatever he wanted with his life. He wanted Hisagi to be happy, more than anything else, happy and safe from harm.

Holding the slumbering male’s hand had quickly become a habit for him, as he had come to terms with his feelings, it was comforting to him, and it made him believe that somehow, just maybe, Shuuhei could hear him. “Shuuhei . . . you’ve got your whole life ahead of you now . . . there’s no one to hold you back, to beat you down into submission anymore . . . . She’s gone, gone forever, and now, everyone’s waiting for you to come back to us . . . .” he murmured, to no one in particular.

“Kira Izuru was here today,” he continued on, “he’s worried about you. He misses you. He . . . he told me what happened to you . . . . And, damn, Shuu! I nearly choked on my own heart! To find out . . . that you were hurting so badly, that you needed me, that you were calling me . . . ! It’s . . . almost more than I can bear . . . .” He looked up at Hisagi’s face then, “I should have been there for you . . . to protect you. As your teacher, as your friend! As . . . someone who loves you . . . . I should have figured it out a long time ago, I know . . . . I just didn’t have a name for the longing and wonder in my heart . . . . I wasn’t able to stop thinking about you . . . that alone should have been enough for me to figure out that I . . . that I . . . that I love you, Shuuhei!”

His words spent, Kensei let his head fall, his face buried into the edge of the mattress, both his hands still clutching Shuuhei’s limp hand. “I love you . . . dammit!” Minutes slipped past, spent in an oppressive silence that made every tick from the clock seem blaringly loud. _‘Please . . . Shuu. I need you . . . . I’m the one who needs you now . . . . Please come back to me . . . !’_

Something brushed his hands, but in his current state of drowning in his own thoughts, he didn’t register the feeling. “Sen . . . sei . . . .” came the faintest of whispers, but it sent a chill through Kensei’s entire body.

His head jerked up, and his eyes immediately flashed to Hisagi’s face, where he met a sleep-blurred, dream-cast dark gaze.

Shuuhei was **awake**.

Speechless with shock and joy, he just stared at his former student, his throat tightening with all the things he wanted to say, but couldn’t get out.

“Sensei . . . .” Shuuhei called again, his lips curving up faintly under the oxygen mask, his hand flexing in Kensei’s grasp, making the silver-haired man realize he’d felt it before.

“Shuu . . . .” Kensei breathed.

Tears slipped out of the corners of Shuuhei’s dark, silvery orbs, “You . . . you came for me . . . . I always . . . knew you would . . . Sensei . . . .” he whispered, his voice scratchy from disuse. His voice was deeper than Kensei remembered, more mature and robust, but that was to be expected, though he’d have to get used to the way it sounded, which he didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Shuu . . . . Shuu, I . . . .” 

“Sensei . . . . Muguruma . . . sensei.” 

“Wha . . . What is it, Shuu?” Kensei whispered, just relishing the sound of his name leaving Hisagi’s lips.

“I . . . love you too, Sensei.”


End file.
